Pucking Road Trip (Bay Rebels #3)

Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Ocean Hotel, Anaheim

E den

Rage sweeps through me, burning the words in my throat to ash.

If I tried to speak, nothing would come out but smoke.

Last night, when I’d been forced to helplessly watch from the other side of the glass, while Minchew beat on my brother, I wouldn’t have been breathing smoke.

I’d have been roaring fire like a fucking dragon.

I wanted to burn down the entire arena.

Yet it wasn’t Minchew, with whom I was angry. It was my twin, who’d stood there, with his arms at his side, allowing himself to be pummeled.

I know why I’ve lost my voice this morning.

It’s because I know that I’m really angry at myself.

I should burn myself to ash for being unable to protect Shay.

I can feel every line of my phoenix tattoo on my back and remember each second of the pain, as it was inked.

A pain that at the time meant freedom and reclamation of my body.

If I’d been on the ice with Shay like I used to be, then I’d have stopped Minchew.

I should have tried harder to stop Shay from entering that haunted house.

I concentrate on rubbing arnica cream into Shay’s bare back in circles. It helps to hide that my hand is shaking.

Shay doesn’t also need to worry about my shit.

Shay and I have rubbed arnica into each other since we started playing hockey. It’s a physical game. This is part of our routine.

But this time is different.

Because I know that Shay deliberately got himself hit.

Concentrating on tasks has helped to hide my turmoil this morning. I focused on packing up alongside Robyn from the Los Angeles hotel, getting us into the motorhome, then the short drive to Anaheim, which is the final leg of the road trip.

Exhausted, I grimace, as my shoulder aches.

The Ocean Hotel is bright and modern with a balcony and views over a beautiful pool.

Shay is sitting in a cool bath with his knees pulled up to his chest. He’s staring with glassy eyes at a random point on the far wall of the bathroom.

He’s not snapped out of this half dazed state since the end of the game yesterday.

I expected coach to bust Shay’s balls after the game, but for the first time, D’Angelo squared off to coach. He insisted that Shay skip the debriefing. Instead, he guided him gently back to the hotel.

D’Angelo spoke to Shay more softly than I’ve heard him talk to him before, wrapping him in a blanket and stroking his hair. Then he asked me to raid the minibar for chocolate and a Gatorade.

Robyn spooned close on the other side of Shay on the bed.

Shay didn’t speak.

It was like he’d switched places with me.

I watched them in confusion, awkward and unsure. My skin itched.

D’Angelo appeared to know what to do.

I wanted to hit something.

Maybe myself.

The bathroom is large with navy blue walls and driftwood floors.

There has been an attempt to make the room feel like the seaside with wooden bowls filled with shell shaped soap and seaweed shampoo.

Potted palms lean beside the window, which looks out over the park. A gleaming luxury corner shower would dominant the bathroom, if there wasn’t also a sunken bath.

It’s a calming oasis.

Shay isn’t calm, however, even laid out like a merman in the most indulgent bath that either of us have been in. He’s not enjoying it like he should be, however, and I know that he’d normally be happily talking about how he’s never been in a bathroom this big, lain in a sunken bath, or whether if he uses that shampoo, his hair will transform into seaweed.

I need his sunshine back.

How can I jolt him out of this state?

I take a deep breath of the delicious white tea fragrance, which washes through the room.

I like this hotel the best.

This is why D’Angelo is such a good boss. I bet he chose it for me because he knew that it was tea scented.

Are there hotels that also come with complimentary cats?

I’ll ask D’Angelo.

I’m stripped to my joggers in order to not get wet. I shuffle on my knees, glancing to get a better look at my brother’s face.

He doesn’t notice.

His expression is still blank like his typical easy smile is trapped inside.

When I look up, Robyn meets my gaze. Her expression is sad.

She’s sitting on the other side of the bath with the sleeves of her ivory shirt rolled up. Her pants are soaked, but she doesn’t appear to care.

Robyn is grasping Shay’s hand and examining his fingernails with a frown. “These are torn and… What the hell happened? Sorry, you don’t need to tell me. Once you’re out, I’ll give you a mini manicure and sort them out, okay?”

Shay doesn’t reply.

Robyn continues to examine the bloody tips of his fingers.

I narrow my eyes, before washing the cream off my hand and gripping Shay by the chin.

For the first time, he focuses on me. “Dee?”

He blinks, rapidly.

I try to force out what I want to say, but my throat is too dry with ash.

Instead, I forcibly turn Shay’s head to make him face Robyn.

“Your fingernails.” Robyn places his hand down on the side, tracing over it. “You must have hurt them. I can sort them out and then paint them for you.”

“Thanks, love.” Shay sounds far away.

Robyn meets my gaze over his head, as lost as I am.

Then she puts on a determinedly bright smile. “Your brother bought chocolate chip muffins as a treat for breakfast.”

She reaches behind her and drags out the basket of muffins, which I went out myself this morning to a bakery down the street to hunt out.

Few things put Shay in a better mood than pastries.

I bought them myself.

Shay may have new lovers in his life who have much more money than I ever will, but I’m still his twin.

I can take care of him.

“And one more thing.” Robyn dangles a bottle of beer in front of Shay like it’s candy.

I expect him to snatch it. He always does.

Instead, he turns away his head. “I’m not thirsty.”

When my brother and I were in high school, sometimes I’d find him like this — beaten and bloodied in a corridor with the same glassy eyed expression.

I didn’t understand it then.

I thought it may be that he simply felt emotions more strongly than I did. Happiness and pain were intense highs and lows to Shay, whereas to me, they were numbed.

Shit happens. You live with it.

Shay experiences things differently.

I wish that D’Angelo was here, but he’s off meeting with his PI, Garcia.

Last night, in a deadly cold voice, D’Angelo declared that we were no longer taking any more of Gibbs’ dares and that he was finding a way to end this.

D’Angelo and I stayed up all night, while Robyn and Shay slept curled in our arms. I wasn’t allowing either of them out of my sight for a moment.

Together, D’Angelo and I brainstormed, made emergency calls, and listed everyone within the NHL who owed him favors.

The primary of those being the captain of the Anaheim Ducks.

I ease myself back from the bath to give Shay space.

But all of a sudden, words are freed from my throat.

Shit, they’re not the ones that I intended to say.

“I’m angry with you,” I blurt.

Silence.

Robyn shoots me a dirty look.

“I’m angry with me too.” Shay’s wet hair hangs over his face.

My lips pinch.

I’m talking about him allowing himself to be hurt on the ice.

“We’re not talking about the same thing,” I say.

I think.

I’m never sure about shit like that.

Shay clutches his arms tighter around his knees. “I’m sorry that I let you down.”

Robyn slowly places the beer beside the muffin basket. “You didn’t. It was a draw last night. No one expected us to be able to achieve a win. So—”

“In the dare.” Shay’s voice is so soft that I need to lean closer to hear him. “I freaked out and would have failed it. I only didn’t because I was locked in.”

“After this, do you think that I give a fuck about the dare?” Robyn looks like an Amazonian warrior with the way that her eyes flash. I believe that she’d stand up to any one to battle for my brother. “You’re what matters.”

Shay shakes his head like he’s struggling to truly take in her words. “You’re not angry? I deserve—”

“To be loved.” Robyn kneels up, kissing Shay on the forehead. His gaze snaps to hers. “To believe that you deserve only the best things in this world and always have. To know that I’d never put you at risk. If you hadn’t consented to do the dare, then I wouldn’t have been okay with it. Hell, I was never okay with it anyway. The moment that you wanted to leave that house, you were no longer consenting. I wouldn’t ever be angry about that. Fuck, the asshole actually locked you up…? But the front door was open all the time. We didn’t hear any noise from inside. You were meant to call us, if there was a problem.”

Shay shivers. “I guess that it was soundproofed.”

“What was?”

“The Room.”

I become ashen.

Memories of a stained mattress, darkness, bruises and pain and Shay sobbing flood through me.

I can’t stop them.

Abruptly, I push myself to my feet, backing off to the wall.

My expression is shuttered, but inside, I’m a mess.

Except, it was in the room next door to the Room that I died and was reborn into a phoenix, as I flew through the air over and over.

I know that Robyn only heard the room , without a capitalized ‘r’.

I wish that I did.

Then I wouldn’t have to know that someone forced my brother back to the worst two weeks of his life.

I brace myself against the wall. I wish that I was alone with Shay so that I could hug him.

Luckily, Robyn’s here to lean up and kiss Shay, tenderly.

When she draws back, she cups his cheek. “I’m sorry that you were trapped inside, and we didn’t know. Shit, is that why your fingernails are…? I swear, we’ll help you through this. Just tell me what you need.”

For the first time, Shay’s expression brightens. “You, love.”

“Lucky you have me then.” Robyn kisses him again. Then she entangles their hands, raising them to show his ring on her thumb. “Four stars, one to represent each of us in this relationship. We’re equals; it doesn’t work without every single one of us. Dad, the Bay Rebels, and the terror of my past being opened again are all important, but nothing will ever be as important to me as you three.”

She sounds like she means it.

I watch with an intent gaze, as Robyn brushes my brother’s hair out of his face. Then she reluctantly lets go of his hand and stands up.

She grabs a fluffy white towel from the rack and holds it up. “Come on, no prunes allowed.”

Shay smiles for the first time. “Yes, ma’am.”

Robyn chuckles. “Are you trying to make me wet?”

“In both ways.” When Shay splashes her deliberately, as he pulls himself out of the bath and his muscles bunch, she squawks in outrage.

Robyn attempts to retaliate, but Shay dances away.

Robyn snaps the towel at his ass, and he yelps. Then he catches the towel with his hand, yanking her closer into his arms.

Shay’s eyes are dancing.

His wet body is pressed to hers, as they kiss.

Then together, they…inefficiently…dry him, before he wraps the towel around his waist. His chest is still glistening with water droplets, but he’s now grinning.

I’m happy to see Shay coming out of that trapped place, which frightens me.

But I’ve fallen into a dark place of my own.

“I’m going to kill Gibbs.” My words are calm.

A statement.

Inevitable.

Shay’s smile fades.

“Good sentiment. I believe you. But I have a better idea,” D’Angelo drawls from the doorway.

Relieved, I glance over at him.

D’Angelo’s dressed immaculately in a light navy suit and waistcoat, whereas the rest of us are half naked and wet.

He eyes the disaster zone that’s the bathroom for a moment. “I can’t leave you alone for a couple of hours, can I?”

Robyn snorts. “Says the playboy infamous for trashing hotel rooms by holding wild orgies with cake fights.”

“Fair. But those hotels agreed beforehand because I tip exceptionally well.”

Then D’Angelo’s gaze slides to Shay. His eyes darken with rage as he takes in the expanse of bruises over almost every inch of Shay’ chest and abs, as well as wrapping around his kidneys.

Minchew truly worked him over.

“How are you feeling?” D’Angelo’s voice is tight.

Shay plays with the towel at his waist, anxiously. “As shit as I deserve to. Are you disappointed in me?”

Surprise flashes across D’Angelo’s face. “I’m proud , cucciolo. You scored three goals in yesterday’s game. Who could ask more than that? I only scored one. So, we drew the game. It only means that we’ll have to kick the Ducks’ asses tomorrow. And don’t think that I won’t be trying my hardest because right now, you’re winning the kink contest. I’m not losing to you.”

Robyn grins. “See, healthy competition because of kink.”

Shay licks his dry lips. “But I freaked out.”

“You didn’t.” D’Angelo’s voice becomes harder. “You made a decision to throw chirps at a brutal jerk like Minchew. Or do you want to pretend that you didn’t know how he’d react?”

Shay reddens and doesn’t answer.

D’Angelo is looking at Shay severely, not allowing him to drop his gaze. “Whatever is going on, you need to tell me. I’m your dom. Communication is the most important thing for me to be able to keep you safe. You don’t get to punish yourself. And you know what you truly don’t get to do? Incite someone else to do it for you.”

Shay wraps his arms around himself. “I don’t know if I can stop.”

“You can. Because I’m adding it to the rules.” D’Angelo cocks his head. “When we’re back home, we need to renegotiate the contract to add: No harming yourself or using others to deliberately harm you. What do you think?”

“It’s a good rule,” Shay whispers.

Robyn gently lays her hand on Shay’s arm. “It sounds a good idea for all of us. I know how you feel about therapy, but at least talk to us if you can.”

“And if you ever feel that desperate need to be punished,” D’Angelo appears pained, and I realize that he doesn’t want to add this but he is for Shay’s sake, “then you come to me. I’m responsible for you. I’ll find a way to help you with this that won’t harm you, I promise.”

Shay is looking at him with wonder. “Why would you bother with my shit?”

D’Angelo’s expression finally gentles. “Because I love you, cucciolo. And I’ll tell you that as many times as you need to hear it. I’ll do whatever I need to do to prove it to you.”

D’Angelo marches across the wooden floor to Shay. He pulls Shay against his chest, ignoring the way that his dampness is ruining his suit, at the same time as Robyn slips her arms around Shay’s waist from the back.

Shay is caught safely between them both.

I stay back, in the shadows.

Watching.

My brother has found two people who understand him and can keep him safe.

As kids, he only needed me.

Once, I always wanted to be the one to protect him.

Now, I know that he needs more than that.

Since I met Robyn, I know that I do as well.

I need her.

“If I have to make you wear your cock ring every day,” D’Angelo growls into Shay’s ear, “to remind you that you’re secure, owned, and loved, then I will.”

Shay’s smile is finally relaxed. “Promises, promises.”

Robyn smothers her laugh against Shay’s shoulder.

“How do we stop Gibbs?” I clench my fists. “I can kill him.”

I repeat that end part, in case they didn’t believe me the first time that I offered.

Seeing the three of them together and happy again, I know that I’d do anything for them.

“Firstly, I already heard you on the whole killing thing.” D’Angelo pulls back from Shay to shoot me an assessing glance. “Secondly, surprising as this may sound, murder isn’t always the answer. This man is a sadistic asshole who’s revenge obsessed. In order to get that, he’s been going after my family as well as me. Did you think that I ever intended to let him win? I’m going to fucking destroy him.”

Robyn stares at D’Angelo. “Wait, you’ve only been playing along…?”

D’Angelo gives a devilish smile. “I needed the time to dig enough dirt on him in order to go on the offensive.”

“We were up last night, calling final contacts and putting things into place,” I comment.

I don’t say that my idea is still better.

It is.

“This morning, I missed the bathtime fun in order to meet with Garcia and put together the final pieces of the puzzle.” D’Angelo pulls at his cufflinks. “Gibbs is meant to be Superpuck. He’s not branded only as an outstanding coach but he’s built his entire career on his reputation as an outstanding family man.”

“Why does that help us?” Robyn demands. “Gibbs is well known in the press to be a good guy. I’ve been researching him since this began, and anyone would be envious of his golden reputation.”

“Except, it’s bullshit.” Why is D’Angelo studying Robyn with a regretful expression, as he continues, “People sometimes aren’t who you expect. Even the dead.”

“What do you…?”

“This guy is more like Lex Luthor in secret, a cocky womanizer who indulges in misogyny. And that’s not to mention the sexual harassment of female staff members, which he’s managed to keep quiet through NDAs.”

“Shit.” Robyn clings tighter to Shay. “If he has enough power to keep this quiet all these years, how did you manage to find it out?”

“Garcia is good at his job, principessa, partly because I pay him so much.” D’Angelo looks unsettled. “Plus, the thing about bullying sadists, who can play games as smoothly as Gibbs has with us, is that they’ve been playing them for decades. Gibbs is a coach. I knew that he must have treated his own players in the same way. So, I hit up my contacts in his past teams and even amongst the current Ducks. Some were too scared to speak but others, once they knew in vague terms that their coach was hurting young players on my team, as well as me , were willing to help, off the record. Most of the players in the NHL have each other’s backs, when we can. We’re brothers.”

“He hurts them like he’s hurt us?” My jaw is clenched.

“Some worse,” D’Angelo replies. “He hacks their records and monitors them. It’s why I decided to return the favor. He finds out their pain points, then he presses and presses, until he breaks them. He’s like Colton but a hundred times worse. He has to hold the control.”

“Then we take it back,” Robyn says.

“No more dares.” I step forward, determined.

D’Angelo shakes his head. “There’s going to be a dare. But it’ll be ours . He wanted three, right?”

Shay’s eyes are bright and excited again. “I never could play defense.”

D’Angelo slips his phone out of his pocket.

Then he reads out the text as he types it, “Dare: Meet us alone in the Ducks’ locker room four hours before the game tomorrow.”